


Eleven Months, 22 Days

by firstdegreefangirl



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, M/M, Pining, Regret, Songfic, but it's not sad either??, connor's pov, it's very one-sided tbh, this is not a happy story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-04
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2019-02-28 01:48:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13261065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firstdegreefangirl/pseuds/firstdegreefangirl
Summary: Almost a year ago, Connor ran away. But now he wants to come back.





	Eleven Months, 22 Days

**Author's Note:**

> My triumphant return to the semester from hell comes in the form of this, written beginning to end and proofread by me all in one sitting. 
> 
> It's based on my favorite old country song, which I'll reveal in the end notes so I don't spoil anything.

Connor’s thumb hovered over the “dial” button for close to five minutes before he convinced himself to actually place the call. Two burner phones later, and he still has the number in his contacts, but he could have recited it from memory without even trying.

_Eleven months and 22 days._ They haven’t talked in 11 months and 22 days. He didn’t say where he was going, mostly because he didn’t know yet. Just that he had to go, he had to get out of there. It was the biggest argument they’d ever had, that he needed to go for a while but didn’t know where to or for how long.

He’s not even sure they’re still together, but now, 11 months and 22 days later, he’s ready to come home. And home starts with this phone call. But before he can finish rehearsing what he’s going to say – condense his endless flurry of _please_ and _I’m sorry_ and _I want to come back_ into something coherent – the other end of the line crackles to life.

_Jared, I know you’re the only person who ever calls. Just text me._

Then there’s a pause, and Connor’s about to hang up when the voice speaks again.

_If you’re selling something, no thanks, but have a nice day. Um, I’m busy on Wednesday nights, but I’ll call back later. And the Craigslist ad was a joke. I’m not looking for a relationship. But, uh, if-if it’s anybody else, leave a message._

It’s got a note of finality to it, but there’s one more sentence, hesitant this time.

_Oh, and-and if this is Connor? I know it’s probably not, but if it is, you-you should leave a message too. Uh, I-I’ll call you back for sure. Just, uh, wait for-for the beep._

He can’t believe it. All this time, all these miles Connor’s put between them, and even now, he’s part of Evan’s voicemail? God, Connor wouldn’t give himself the time of day if he were in Evan’s position. It’s so surprising that he drops the phone to the counter before he can do something stupid like leave a message he hasn’t practiced several dozen times in his head first. Almost as soon as he’s hung up, Connor starts questioning if he’s made the right decision or not, but he can’t bring himself to hit “redial.”

It haunts him for three days, the too-familiar sound of Evan’s voice, tinny from the static but otherwise unchanged. Just how close Connor was to having everything back. Unless, of course, Evan doesn’t want him back. He said it himself, he’s “not looking for a relationship.” But he also told Connor specifically to leave a message. Shouldn’t he at least do this one thing right for Evan? After everything he’s messed up?”

So, on Friday night, he parks his car in front of a 7-Eleven – in the rain, which he thinks is fitting – and calls back.

The phone rings once, twice, three times. Connor’s rehearsing again, what he’ll say if Evan picks up. But never one to learn from the past, he doesn’t have anything prepared for when the voicemail reel clicks on. It’s changed now, and he listens to it, hoping an idea will come to him.

_Jared, seriously, it’s not funny. Stop making me fake profiles on dating websites. What’s that even mean, six feet and nine inches, in two separate measurements? Besides, I’m 5’10”._

_Anyway, to anyone else, I’m hanging out with Zoe this weekend, and we’ve got a strict no-phone policy. But I’ll be back Sunday afternoon and I’ll return calls then_

_And Connor? It … it’s not too late. Uh, for you to call me. If … if this is even you. It’s probably not, but worth a try, right? Uh, leave a message._

This time, he won’t let himself hang up, but he’s still too surprised to actually say anything like what he was rehearsing. He freezes for a long moment, then stammers out his phone number, hangs up and goes into the store to buy himself a soft pretzel for his troubles. 

He spends the next day and a half driving in the general direction of the place he used to call home, not really sure where else to go. And he doesn’t know where he will go, if Evan doesn’t call back, or if he says no. Or what he’s going to say if Evan _does_ call him. All of a sudden, the apologies he’d been working on for the past week felt insufficient, not enough for all the hell he’d clearly put Evan through.

Sure enough, it’s 2:47 on Sunday afternoon – not that he’s been counting the minutes or anything – when his phone rings. Evan’s name flashes on the screen and he almost doesn’t answer, just because he doesn’t know what he’d say. But he does, sliding his thumb across the screen and holding the phone to his ear.

“If you’re calling about everything I said that day, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been like that. It wasn’t fair to try to take you from everything just because I didn’t know where I belonged. I do now though, and you-you’ve got me if you want me.” He steels himself for every reaction he can think of: hurt, anger, sadness, and worst of all: total indifference.

 

“It’s Connor, by the way.”

**Author's Note:**

> Based on Austin by Blake Shelton.
> 
> If you saw any errors, I'd love to know, because I proofread this in the same session I wrote it and posted right away.
> 
> Aside from that, if you enjoyed, kudos and comments keep my toes warm in the "arctic air" the weather says is moving in on me.


End file.
